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Amrit’s girlfriend got home from another long day at the office. Huffing and puffing, she walked to the door from the lift, and opened it. She sighed, thinking not just of work but also her bank debts which had been escalating as Amrit had moved in.
The sound of the flush, and the bathroom door flung back.
“Baby!” the small rotund man ran out and hugged her, with one foot going up as he did so like he were a woman in a French film. “I just got a great idea.”
He took her by the hand and sat her down on the orange sectional that took up most of the studio flat, and launched into how he had been on the phone with his friend DM who had just come back from Las Vegas. This city was the valley of the gods, had said DM. The city was splitting at the seams with medical marijuana dispensaries that had many job openings for bud-tenders and, gasp, gave away free samples. Amrit had to go there. The dispensaries even offered free training for people such as himself who were really enthusiastic about the industry.
Amrit would rise quickly in the industry, and become a mover and shaker (he wiggled his belly to emphasize this) in the industry. One day he might even become a budrepeneur because of his passion and drive.
Of course DM had said no such thing. He had merely mentioned the number of dispensaries in Las Vegas and that they gave samples.
It was from this narrative that just a few weeks later Amrit showed up at the American embassy for his visit visa interview. He convinced his girlfriend to take a 100,000Dhs personal loan to put into his bank account.
This story is too fun to write in a linear fashion. Hence, here we split the universe into two parallel multiverses.
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Amrit in Vegas
Although he rarely caught a break, Amrit in this one scenario had a stroke of pure luck. The visa agent assigned to interview him happened to be a huge closet marijuana fan. Said agent took long holidays on which he imbibed and then cleansed his system before work, had met his girlfriend in Amsterdam, and even had a dog named Bud. Looking at Amrit who had stupidly worn a shirt with a marijuana leaf on it, he could not help but feel solidarity with the roly poly man. He asked him some softball questions, all of which Amrit failed, and then approved the visa.
Amrit’s first night in Vegas was profound. He had never gambled before, and so lost 20,000Dhs right away while drinking 9 free whiskey sours. Falling on his stomach, he passed out going, “This is the bessst place in the worrllld.”
The next day Amrit went to a strip club and had sex with whom he later realized was a transvestite. Getting upset, he threw a punch and fell on his arm when he missed, only to be subsequently thrown out by bouncers onto his bouncy belly which saved him from too much of a hard landing on the piss-covered pavement.
On the third day, when he hit the dispensaries, something odd happened. Smoking 10 spliffs, Amrit went to a random burger joint and ordered 5 doubles. With each one, he shouted, “More!” in a shrill voice like a dog barking. As he waited for his order of cheesy fries, he shouted, “More! More!!” in the same shrill voice, but abruptly like a gunshot.
Heading back to the hotel, he began imbibing vodka while shouting the same way between drinks. He soon became known as the guy who would shout, “More! More!” at strip clubs between dances, and between pot brownies.
Of course within a fortnight Amrit was nearing broke, and that too with the 24-hour days that he took booze and drug naps. He Skype-called his girlfriend to ask for more money.
“I’m just heading to an interview baby,” he assured her, wearing a suit top while being completely naked below the waist. “Just send more money for the next 4 years. Or else, I will leave you.”
“You’ve left me already,” his girlfriend said, wheezing.
“But I’m still in your heart,” Amrit told her in an ominous voice. “You don’t want me to leave your heart, do you?”
Amrit’s girlfriend sighed and wheezed, pondering, perhaps.
“I mean, where else can you find someone like this,” Amrit said as he moved back to show his full body, including unclothed bottom. “Especially this,” he said as he moved his hand down to where his cock should have been. He reached around. “Hold up,” he said as he searched.
“One sec,” he said, “Can’t seem to find it right now.” He minimized Skype and put on a porno, lying sideways to find his dick.
The girlfriend thought of all the Sri Lankans she had dated before meeting Amrit with his Brahmin wheatish complexion, and like all codependent enablers, doubled down.
With more money came a more demanding Amrit. He barked more! at waitresses, strippers, budtenders and room service.
Alongwith the dispensaries, Nevada had instituted a research centre for marijuana. When word got around the dispensaries about the odd man who barked for more pot, researchers gathered to discuss this strange effect that was the opposite of what was the norm for marijuana. No one had ever heard of such irritability on marijuana.
This being Trump’s US, the researchers kidnapped Amrit one day while he was rolling out of a bar in his underwear. They threw him, cursing, in an empty room where they could observe him from multiple angles.
Researchers threw burgers into Amrit, who of course devoured them while shouting more! They got the same effect with vodka and of course pot. The latter was the most perplexing since weed was not meant to have such an unmellow effect.
One day having run out of burgers and with Amrit smashing on the door, one researcher walked in and threw spaghetti and meatballs on the floor with his bare hands. Amrit scrambled and ate the pasta off the floor.
The researcher thought about all the post-doctorate studies he had done to be stuck in this position.
This being Trump’s America, the researchers were all Black in order to mitigate any possibility of them imbibing any of the marijuana themselves. Especially with #BlackLivesMatter going on, the Black folks were far too scared to take any of the research product, what with Black men being gunned down for just living let along smoking weed.
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Amrit in Uruguay
Of course Amrit could not get a visit visa while wearing a marijuana leaf shirt. The visa officer actually slapped him and sent him packing.
A random European stoner saw him walking out and told him about Uruguay, where weed had been legalized nationally.
Amrit of course got a visa to the country and headed there. His luck being what it was, he got robbed one day while smoking his 12th joint inside a sewer. He also made a prostitute pregnant, married her and had a kid, whom he beat and called a bitch.
Karma followed luck and Amrit soon got full blown AIDS as well as subsequent leprosy. His skin slowly fell off as he spent his days lying on his side.
Over Skype he assured his girlfriend that they were still together, and asked for more money.
Rainbow Kandura 